Inescapable Pt. 01 of 02

We got a table of frat boys, and before we finished setting down their drink orders one of them sprang for a session in the back rooms with me. He was kind of a rich douchebro, and I felt some contempt for him... but it didn't make any difference. After what I'd already been doing, after being in a state of nonstop arousal for a few hours, I just had no resistance. I'd already blown two guys, and flashed my breasts and ass and pussy all over the place, right?

Diana took us to her room. "You'll need a firm hand with this one," she declared, giving me a doubtful look. Her place had a large, double-doored chest. A bed with iron headboard and footboard, suitable for attaching straps or chains to. A weight bench in the corner, a table with iron legs. No actual BDSM gear was visible as we entered, however. It was a space that could be quickly adapted to several different ambiances.

Which Diana proved as soon as she opened the chest. She handed the guy some chains with padded leather cuffs, and talked him through attaching me to the table. The lights dimmed as he did so. I acted nervous and hesitant, but curious despite myself - which was only about one-quarter an act. In what seemed a twinkling I was bent over the table, my feet spread wide, each ankle hooked to a table leg. My hands were strapped together, but dragged forward by another chain connected to the legs on the opposite side.

I think she didn't want to leave me a chance to back out on my first time. In truth, he seemed about as nervous as me. He was trying not to show it; pretending confidence and knowledge he clearly didn't have. But he was also finding the whole scene to be hot; Diana and I could both tell, and found that unspeakably hot.

I probably would have been more nervous, but I was pretty sure that (a) Diana wouldn't let anything too terrible happen, and (b) she could take this guy with one arm if he did try anything 'off the menu'. Plus, Anong had explained that the security guys kept watch on the rooms via hidden cameras. And since they couldn't take a prurient interest, they were quite attentive.

Anyway, there I was, ass and pussy exposed, the hair spread like a blanket across my back and the table, as he slipped a ball gag into my mouth and pulled it tight.

Diana had backed away and sat in a corner, out of our direct line of sight, continuing to guide him. "Touch her. Slowly, slide your hand along her side, up her back. Let her feel you're in control, that she can't stop you." He did so for a minute, and I whimpered. Then she said, "Touch her breasts, her pussy. No, don't push, just... tease. Assert a claim, that's all." When he slid a finger along my slit, I groaned and shook my head.

"Ah. Defiance. We can't have that. Take the paddle, spank her."

My eyes widened and I struggled as the wood slapped my tender backside.

"Not too hard! You want to correct her, guide her, not frighten her." The next slap was softer. "Yes, that's it. You're encouraging her to submit, not punishing her. Let her learn that obedience brings pleasure. Teach her that you know best."

I moaned. I could hear his panting, he was lost in the moment. I could picture the bulge in his pants, straining to get out.

"Now, the plug. A little oil, and... there." It felt weird going in my ass, then I just had a feeling of fullness. But the way his hands shook, this had to be driving him bananas. I looked over my shoulder at him, moaning. His own eyes were full of wonder, and need.

"Take the feather. Tickle, tease. Compel her to experience sensation, to anticipate you." He played with it, and I twitched and giggled and jerked and moaned, playing up my reactions in a show for him.

"Probe now. Test her. Is she wet? Can you feel her strain, hear her breath come faster?" I was definitely wet, my nipples pressed against the table, inhaling and exhaling through my nose in heaving surges, knowing he was so on the edge. I flexed against my bonds, tensed my muscles.

"Now she's ready. Ready to be claimed, to give herself to you." A pause, then, urgent: "Take her."

I looked over my shoulder again, into his eyes, pleading. He was the one who was actually ready now, turgid and rampant as he desperately kicked off his pants. Diana had talked him into a frenzy. He pounced and plunged into me.

I was so tight for him, but sopping wet; I squeezed to make it tighter, grateful in the moment that Gerry had given me the right tools for the job. I wasn't even registering the sensations of penetration as pleasurable or uncomfortable. I wasn't doing anything but imagining how my pussy was making him feel.

In less than half a minute, he came. A typical girl would have been disappointed; in my experience hardly any women could get off that quick. An ordinary prostitute would have been pleased, her work over so soon. I wasn't normal, so I was already coming when he did. As I heard his frantic "Uuuuuuaaaah!" and felt him climax, pulsing in my tunnel, I just exploded. It was all so unbelievably sexy...

He thrusted, and shuddered, and pulled out, almost stumbling. I felt anxious for a heartbeat, but then I heard Diana murmuring in his ear, telling him to undo my chains. He did so - with, at first, shaking hands. As he left I tried to look dazed, and amazed at his performance. Anything to encourage him to come back and go again.

Once he closed the door, Diana led me into her bathroom, and got a wet washcloth. She showed me how to clean myself. I should have been disgusted, but in the afterglow of an intense orgasm I was more amused than anything. The semen was proof that a male orgasm had just happened, and I'd helped it along! It was almost empowering. A hell of a first time.

And it was only midnight! Two more hours, I knew I could get laid again. At least another blowjob.

At that thought, I had a moment of clarity. What the fuck was I thinking? I was cooperating with guys tying me up and spanking me and fucking me roughly from behind. Things had gotten completely out of control. The only rational course was to head back to my room and barricade the door shut...

-----

What can I say? People are seldom rational about sex. That fact had informed a big part of my old job, for that matter. A few minutes later, after Diana touched up my makeup, I was following her back to the main room again.

And within twenty minutes, I got to fuck a guy on my own. Still in Diana's room, but she waited outside. I guess she knew I was hooked on hooking by that point.

We didn't bust out the toys. He almost carried me to the bed and started yanking off my clothes. He didn't even give me a chance to blow him or anything. He dropped his pants and got inside me with what can best be described as 'alacrity'. Not even the stupidest whore could have missed his urgency. Apparently I was a whore now, but I wasn't stupid, so did my best to mirror it. If passion was what he wanted, what would get him off, then I was happy to provide it.

For all that he started fast, he lasted longer than the douchebro. I had my eyes locked on his so I wasn't worried. He was savoring, enjoying himself, not stalling.

I'd had exactly two simultaneous orgasms in my life, both with my ex. If she hadn't been faking. To Gerry's Girls, though... the feel, or even the sight, of a guy coming... It is, if you'll pardon the phrase, magical. It's almost always enough to get us off, even if we just have.

In short, when he came, I came. Because he came.

He was just as cheerful, after, and gave me a big smooch before he left. Later I found out he left an extra tip on the bill, too. Then I went back out and got in another under-the-table before last call.

At the end of the shift, Diana dropped me off at my door. I was too tired to worry about much of anything. I just kicked off the heels, and pulled off the hotpants - I'd lost the t-shirt somewhere along the way - on the way to the bed. As I lay down, though, I couldn't help smiling. I'd never climaxed so much in my life, it felt like the end of a great workout - my body was tired but glowing. It was a weird combination of satisfaction and hunger; I was ready for sleep but anticipating more tomorrow. In moments I fell into a thoughtless, contented slumber.

-----

I woke up still feeling good. I lay dozing for a time, just... happy. The only actual thought I had for a while was that I didn't have to get up immediately. Finally, though, I remembered why I didn't have to get up early and I sat up in bed.

I looked down at my breasts as the sheet fell away. At the hair. At the hotpants on the floor. On each, there were little streaks of dried cum. I saw every individual one distinctly, and I felt a chill. But each one sparked a sexy memory, too. I knew exactly when that sticky spot in the hair had gotten that way, and I felt my clit engorge a little.

Of course it bothered me, a lot. Yet, it was as if I couldn't actually feel depressed. My spirits would only get so low, and then it was like they bounced off a padded floor. I got up and got the water started, and discovered that long hair meant long showers. Then it took me about ten minutes to figure out how to wrap it in a towel so it wouldn't fall in my face. I didn't even attempt to dry it.

Melissa found me eating a breakfast delivered from the kitchen. It was all fruit and yogurt. She scoffed. "You don't gotta diet too much. Aerobics three times a week, and yoga on the off days. That's all you need, and you can have waffles or ice cream and still be skinny. Gerry's awesome like that."

I blushed, again. When I'd ordered, I'd suddenly been gripped with fear. I tried to tell myself that Gerry might get mad if I spoiled his handiwork. But really, I worried that I wouldn't be able to turn guys on anymore if I got fat.

She took me to the basement; our first stop was the salon, where the hair was beaten into submission and my face was done.

The work was prep for the next stop. One of the general-purpose rooms had been decorated up, with bright lights and cameras in place. They wanted to do a photo shoot, advertise me on the Gerry's Place website. Of course I'd looked it over during my investigation; it had a menu with most unusual options. Members could subscribe for monthly web content, or pre-order a number of special services.

The thought of guys being enticed by pictures and video of me - maybe even stroking off to it - got me hyped. I posed, and twisted, and jiggled, and did anything they asked. I came several times just from the images in my mind, even before they had me masturbate on camera. The only sad thing was the photographer was female.

They handed me a phone and showed me how to handle the social media stuff. Marci had her own Instagram and Twitter feeds, and several pictures were already posted there and on the main Gerry's Place feeds. They showed me samples of the comments and followers:

the-wet-pistol: Fuuuuuuuuuuuu....

homesick102: Dose titties! I needs a bite!

aint-broke: I'm gonna tear that ass UP!

dreamintheshade: my pants are tight

After, I was so jazzed that, God help me, I went to the studio and did some dance practice. Ms. Ep had me watch a couple of K-pop girl-band music videos, then walked me through some of the moves.

That all took up the morning. I found out Anong was just down the hall, in room 208. We had lunch and talked. I asked something I'd been wondering about.

"Melissa said I'm the third guy Gerry's turned into a girl. I know Collette, but who's the other one?" I wanted to know for many reasons. The possibility of an ally was one. The feasibility of resistance was another.

"Oh, that's Madison." She pulled up the website on her tablet and pointed.

I frowned. That little redhead, exhibitionistic even by Gerry's Girls standards? "Damn..."

"It's actually kind of sweet. She came here with some friends when she was still a guy. Heather got the feeling something was off, and called Gerry down. He saw how she really wanted to be a girl and offered her a deal."

So, probably not inclined to team up against Gerry. There had to be somebody here unsatisfied with the status quo. For that matter... "Do you ever regret signing up?"

Anong's sunny smile was not encouraging. "Nah, it's pretty great here."

"Don't you think it's... degrading?" Flashes of what I'd done last night - what I wanted to do tonight - passed through my mind. I had no faith my shame would keep me from showing up for work later...

She looked sympathetic. "I guess it must be pretty hard for you," she said, laying a hand on mine. "You didn't like guys before, right?"

At my glower, she waved her question away. She actually thought about it for a while. "I know I wouldn't have wanted to do all that stuff before." She shrugged, sheepishly. "I never wanted to be a total slut."

Anong looked almost haunted now. "I wanted to be pretty." She looked at me. "You got no clue what it's like to be a fat, ugly girl. The boys ignore you. Even if you let them fuck you they avoid you after. And girls... they're so mean."

I recognized her anger, and felt bad all over again about my 'whale' comment. She went on. "The pretty ones treat you like shit, and even the okay ones just keep you around to make them look better."

I probably looked shocked. She grimaced. "High school sucked for me. I wanted to kill myself a couple times. College was supposed to be better." Her hand was clutching mine. "It wasn't. So I did try to kill myself."

Now I was squeezing her hand. She paused, and said, "It's okay. I didn't take near enough pills." A sly look. "I mean, I was a whale." At my wince, she flashed me a quick, forgiving grin.

More cheerfully, she kept going. "Gerry found me after I was released. I was waiting for a bus to go home." A shrug. "Now I'm gorgeous. As good-looking as any girl here. And I'm making mad bank. And I've got friends. We're all on a team together, y'know?

Philosophically: "Maybe I do 'degrading' stuff now, but I have fun doing it." A pause. "Besides, it's not like it's really me liking it. It's not my fault, just the spell."

I frowned down at the table, noticing the rationalization going on. "I'm just a smidge more conflicted." I inhaled, exhaled. "I don't think I even 'like guys' now. It's just... I can't help..." I trailed off.

After a pause, Anong said, diplomatically, "Well, it ain't gonna be forever. We gotta sign up for at least a year, and then we can 'retire'. There's barely any girls that left yet, but we can."

"Twenty-seven days," I said flatly.

She looked troubled. To shift topics, I brought up something I had to know. "So does Gerry... sample the goods? 'First fruits' and all that?"

Anong grinned. "Yeah. The first few girls, he did more. But now it's kind of a rule - once per girl." She put a hand on mine. "Not always the first night or anything. But they get a whole night with him." She developed a sly smile. "I think he kinda rests up before. He's not a young guy, and I wore him out when it was my turn."

On the one hand, that meant I would likely be doing something with him. I had conflicting emotions about that. On the other... "That's, um, awfully... restrained of him. Most pim... um, 'managers' don't... give the girls much of a choice.""

She laughed. "He makes exceptions. Some of the first girls, he's got kind of a relationship. The rest of us, maybe every so often, on a special occasion, or right before a girl retires. If he did any more, he'd be buried in girls all the time. I hear it was simpler when they were first starting up." Then she caught herself, and looked concerned. "Um... one thing, though. From what I hear, he, uh..." She swallowed. "He never did Madison, or Collette."

The uppermost emotion I felt was relief, to my relief. But that cursed new part of my brain felt sad. "Huh. Not so into girls who were guys, huh?"

"It's no big deal. I think Madison was a little hurt, but the rest of us girls don't care," she rushed to reassure me. "I mean, I've seen both of them in action. He's really missing out."

I managed a weak smile at that. I didn't take it as the encouragement she'd intended.

-----

I was scared as I walked toward Gerry's office. No duh, right? Oddly, though, I wasn't as scared as I could have been. Because for most of my life, if was frightened, I had to pretend I wasn't. Especially in my job. In this case, though, I couldn't put on a front. Gerry could read my mind, know my emotional state exactly. So there was no point in worrying about my worry.

I knocked, and waited. "Come in, Marci," I heard. The voice came from back in the room; he'd checked who it was through the door. I filed the information away.

I entered, sniffing irritation at the name. He sat at his desk. I sat on the couch, right where I'd woken up, and said, "Any chance you could make 'Mr. Bordreaux' appropriate again?"

He tilted his head, evaluating me. "I think you have a pretty good idea now what I'm protecting. Even leaving aside my own autonomy, these girls could be badly exploited by the likes of your employer."

"Like they're not exploited now," I muttered, defensively.

He rolled his eyes. I felt embarrassed. That had been a poor bluff.

He knew as well as I did, I'd taken the job from Novinski even though I didn't like the guy at all. Refusing a job from him was a dicey proposition. He was Russian, and a human trafficker, and violent.

And besides, I knew I couldn't cure all the world's ills. I'd never run into a prostitution operation that was all that much better. Some of the legal ones, maybe - but Gerry's had been too good to be true. He had to be forcing the girls, especially with how they seldom seemed to leave the facility.

Maybe the girls wouldn't be better off if Novinski took over, but I hadn't seen how they could be worse off.

Except, now I could. A magic ring changes the situation just a tiny bit. Frankly, Gerry was a hell of a lot more ethical about using it than most guys would be. Fuck, more than I probably would be.

Except there were other things that hadn't changed. "Novinski isn't going to stop. He's just getting started. If I don't report in, he'll start trying other things." I didn't bother elaborating. He could see them in my mind. "Even if I do report in, I can't stop him. Maybe slow him down a little, that's all." I left the implication unstated - if he changed me back now, I could help some. If he waited a month, I wouldn't be inclined to help at all.

It was frustrating to watch him dismiss what I had to say. "We have good security here; better than you might imagine. Cameras to record evidence. He won't find us unprepared."

I suddenly realized I was sitting in a pose that bordered on lewd - legs a bit spread, back up straight to display my new endowments. I wanted to kick myself. Although, he wasn't responding like the customers had. More discomfited than turned on. It was true - he didn't like the idea of fucking a former man. In some senses that was fortunate; it allowed me to stay focused.

Like on my frustration. "That's not going to be enough. This isn't a hostile takeover with stock options, these are bad motherfuckers." I had to make him understand.

"I suggest you visit the gym when one of my security detail is exercising. I have some 'bad motherfuckers' of my own." He sighed. "We're not going to convince each other today, I see. Run along, Marci. Perhaps we'll speak again in a week."

I stared at him for a beat, then got up, not saying a word. As I walked out the door, I realized I was a little disappointed. Gerry had seemed so formidable this morning. Now I saw that he had limitations and blind spots, like any man. I was still angry with him - but I could feel a little pity, too. I felt a lot more pity for the girls, and what awaited them.